Dominic Straw The gambling turnabout
by DominicStraw
Summary: Dominic Straw had just became a lawyer in London, but just when he was about to get back to USA he receives a phone call from his mentor: Lawrence Eastwood. It turns up one of his best friends has been detained for murder, and he doubts his innocence.
1. Meeting Jackson Colfed

1

Meeting Jackson Colfred

My name is Dominic Straw, and I'm a defense attorney. I've studied abroad in London for five long years, now I'm 23 and ready to become what I've always wanted to be since I was 15. Just when I was a day from going back to LA it happened. It came as a big surprise, I wasn't expecting to defend anybody until I came back home. My mentor, Lawrence Eastwood, told me about him.

"He's an old friend of mine," he said calmly. "So please try not to let him down"

That wasn't exactly what I was expecting to hear, not at all. All I wanted to say to him was: "If he's a friend of you, then why don't you defend him yourself!" But no, it was my first case and I didn't want to blow it; although I had no idea what happened.

We were standing in the court lobby. I was almost literally sweating bullets. Who was this guy I was supposed to defend, anyway?

"Remember, we can't let this case fall through," warned me Lawrence, always with a smile in his face. It seemed as this was all a game for him. He really looked calmed. How lucky.

"It's ok," I said. "I can handle it, but if only you could tell me a little bit more about this case…"

He laughed. Why? The calmer he was, the more nervous I was. Maybe he doesn't remember how he was in his first case. Also, I think he wasn't realizing in what position was his friend. Did he know that he was in the hands of a newbie? I hope not. Even knowing that he was being accused for murder.

"There's something I need to take care of." He slowly walked away combing his short blonde hair with his right hand. When he was about to step out of the room through the main door (which almost hit with his head, damn he's tall!) he turned back and smiled. I hate when he does that! "Maybe you should introduce yourself to the client. I bet he'll be pleased to meet you"

I didn't have time to answer him; he was already left when I opened my mouth.

My client, Jackson Colfred, was sitting in the bench close to the wall. More than "sitting" he was "dozing", almost sleeping. Should I approach to him? What could I say?

I think he noticed me being close to him, because he snapped out of his daydream and looked at me. Right then I turned my back at him and I started to practice my introduction.

"Hi, my name is Dominic Straw, it is my honor to meet you," I whispered. But no way would I say that to him. He must feel comfortable with me. That's the first rule when it comes to meeting your client.

"Oh, Mr. Straw. I'm so happy to finally meet you"

I turned back almost with a jump. Jackson was standing right next to me. He scared the hell out of me!

"Uh, yeah. Me too." Wait; was there any concern or worry in his face? He looked as calm as Lawrence.

"So, are you ready?" he asked. I looked at him from top to bottom. He was as short as me (thank God, someone with my same height!). He was wearing a blue jacket with big pockets and some old jeans. There wasn't much remarkable about what he was wearing, although he did have a strange necklace holding in his neck. It was golden, heart-shaped. The kind of necklaces which you can open and stick a picture on both sides of the heart, so I guessed it might be him and her girlfriend. He seemed too young to be married. I wondered if he was more than thirty years old. He was looking me straight into my eyes with a confident smile, it seemed as he knew more than just my name somehow. He was wearing a red cap, so I couldn't tell how long his hair was. Though I could say for sure that it wasn't that long, and that it was as black as coal.

"Actually, I was about to ask you the same thing. You don't look worried at all. You do realize you're being accused of murder, right?"

Not a single reaction occurred in his face. He has the concept of that pretty cleared already, it seemed. Why was I looking for expressions in his face, anyway? What is wrong with me today?

"Oh, Mr. Straw. I hope today will be time enough for you to understand everything in this case"

"What do you mean by that?"

He couldn't answer me (though I don't think he was going to) because a guard came into the room to announce that the trial was about to begin. My palms started to sweat, also did my face. I doubt I was going to give a good impression if I flooded the courtroom with my sweat. The courtroom. I started to walk to that room. That room where I had to show everybody what I was able to. That room where the fight for justice takes place. Justice. It all came down to that. Well, not only justice but also truth. Jackson Colfred's truth, that is. What is it that he did? What is it that he didn't do? So many questions and no one to give me an answer. I guess it was all up to me. That sucks.

"I guess it's all up to you Mr. Straw," said Jackson. Was he reading my mind or what? He headed to the courtroom with his hands inside his jacket's pockets. "I wish you the best of luck!"

The best of luck. Yeah, I was going to need more than that. Could you wish for a miracle?

I also headed to the courtroom, but I had to stop when I noticed a little girl of probably 14 years old standing close to the main door. She was staring at me, quite worried. I could see a plea for help in her steamy blue eyes. She was about to cry. Finally, someone who looks worried! Maybe she was supposed to be my client, and not that smiley guy who seemed as happy as a child when he goes to a merry-go-round and gets another go for free.

"The trial is about to begin," shouted a strong voice. Then I heard the sound of the gavel hitting the desk. It was the judge. He looked like sixty-something due to his long white beard and his almost bald (yet also white) hair. "Please everybody take your stands"

"The prosecution is ready, your honor." I heard that from the right side of the room. I had no time to look at him.

I rushed to my stand, where Lawrence was standing with his hands behind him. That is the position to look confident, but I wasn't going to copy that. I had my own position of confidence. I stood next to him still trying to catch my breath.

"Is the defense ready?" asked the judge. He seemed like the kind of guy who likes his job. He didn't look like the kind of judge who is in a bad mood all the time and hits his gavel every time to make people to shut up.

"The defense is fine, I mean ready, your honor," I said trying to chill out.

"I believe this is your first time. Dominic Straw was it?" asked the judge.

"Yes, your honor," I replied as calmly as I could. "And yes, this is my first time as a defense attorney. Any need of checking my badge to prove it?"

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Straw. Thank you." The judge looked at the prosecutor. Then I got to see him clearly. As far as I could tell, he was around his fifties. He had a very tidy, short, lighted black hair. He was dresses very smartly. I should take that into account next time I do this. "Would you mind you mind to give the opening statement of this case, Mr. Johnson?"

So his last name was Johnson. I guess that in a one-on-one fight with our last names his would beat mine in no time. Straw is not the best last name someone would want.

"Yes, your honor," began Johnson. I could already tell he was British because of his accent. It was too perfect, almost forced. "This case is to reveal the truth behind the assassination of Peter Black. Although we don't know much about this person, we do know that he is a foreigner most probably from South America due to the inspection of his belongings. What we know for certain is where this murder took place, and this was in the not-so-popular restaurant called _The big shrimp, _which opened last…_"_

"You're a bit late, Dominic," a close voice said. It was Lawrence, again with a huge smile in his face.

"Yes, I'm sorry," I apologized. "It's just that I was talking to my client"

"Oh, so you got to meet Jackson at last. I'm very sorry to see him here like this," said Lawrence pitiful.

"But you don't really think it was him who committed the murder, right?"

"I hope I could think so, though I can't," he said. "If you're wondering why, just wait and you'll see what I'm talking about. You'll probably even change your mind about him as well"

To change my mind about him? That guy, Jackson, seemed as he had no idea why he was here!

"… also, the prosecution accuses Mr. Jackson Colfred of being the one who took the life of the victim. And I have proof enough to prove that." Johnson stopped talking and took a long breath. He was still talking? But, what was that about the proof he had?

"Then please, show it to us," said the judge impatiently.

"As you want, your honor," said Johnson with a cocky smile. Then he took a small transparent plastic bag with a glass bottle inside. Those kind of small plastic bags made it look like a serious piece of evidence; it was just as in the crime scenes where the detectives gather around small thing in those plastic bags. "This, your honor, is the killer weapon!"

What did he say? The killer weapon! That's impossible, or isn't it?

"A simple bottle?" asked the judge stunned. He stole my words. "How can you be so sure about that?"

"Simple enough, your honor," said Johnson very calmly. Dammit! Did he already have all the case under control? "This bottle has two special incriminating facts. The first one is, of course, that this bottle has Mr. Colfred fingerprints all over it. The second fact is that this bottle was not held normally; it was held upside-down."

"What? But why would someone hold a bottle that way? It makes no sense!" said the judge puzzled. How naïve, even a little boy could figure why someone would hold a bottle that way, especially knowing what we're dealing with here.

"Actually it does, your honor," continued to talk Johnson. "If we take both the facts of who held the bottle and how he did it, and match it the autopsy report of the victim Peter Black, the whole crime would make perfect sense and everything would become crystal clear."

"Mr. Eastwood, I don't think this is going the right way," I whispered to Lawrence. I was hoping he could cheer me up, but he did otherwise.

"Yes, it seems so. That is what I was talking about earlier."

"So you mean you already knew about that?" I asked pissed off. How couldn't he have told me? We're in the same side, aren't we?

"There wouldn't be any change if I told you this before, would it?"

He had a point, I'll give him that.

"Then please tell us, Mr. Johnson, what does the autopsy report say?" asked the judge.

Johnson cleared his throat. I was so nervous waiting to hear what the report said that I almost blacked out. The sweat was burning my eyes, plus the room was very hot.

"I'll only say the most remarkable points, your honor. If that's all right with you." Johnson only moved his head slightly up to see the judge, who was moving his head up and down as an acceptance of his request. "Ok then. Victim: Peter Black. Date and time of death: April 16, at around 02:00AM. Death due to an internal head bleeding caused by the blow of an object in his forehead," then he paused. "Of course there's no need to specify what kind of object it's talking about"

Suddenly, everyone was speechless. Johnson, because he knew he had the upper hand. Lawrence, because he was ashamed of his friend. The judge, well, I think he still had no idea of what was going on. And me, because I started to see my client as the one who killed Peter Black.


	2. A simple game of poker

2

"A simple game of poker"

I couldn't believe it only took a couple of minutes to go from nervous to desperate. I could only imagine it: a long thermometer with all the emotional phases that someone can feel in a court. Up in the top was the "_desperate" _feeling, and the mercury was almost about to overflow.

"It seems that the court needs a little explanation from a professional," said Johnson. "Ok then…"

"Hold it!" someone yelled. I knew his voice. It was Jackson who was sitting in the defendant stand. "Let's not rush thing up, Mr. Johnson. I think I should first give a brief testimony, if that's possible"

The judge took some seconds to realize that Jackson was talking to him.

"Oh, right," he snapped. "There's something I want to know first about this whole case"

"And what would that be, your honor?" said Johnson.

"Well, if this Peter Black is so unknown to everybody, then what reason was there to commit the murder?"

Johnson laughed lowly and briefly, then took out three pictures from his suitcase and handed it to the judge and me, he kept the other one. I instantly took a look at the picture. Great, more evidence that I had no idea about. The photograph was in black and white. I could've stared it for hours, but I only took a minute to see it all in details. A man was laying in a big chair (the ones most commonly seen in the boss' office) with his face pointing to the roof. He was wearing a strange yet formal suit and a hat that covered his entire forehead. Next to him was a table, on both sides of it there where cards and what they looked like coins. No, those aren't coins. Some of them where too big to be coins, those must be chips. More cards where all over the floor, but what looked more frightening was the same bottle that Johnson had in his possession. Only in the photograph the bottle was on the table.

"The motive to this murder his pretty clear, if you ask me," went on Johnson. "The victim and the defendant were playing poker, the defendant lost the game and so his temper, grabbed the bottle and stroke him hard in the forehead"

That couldn't be. He made everything to make sense. Although there was something…

"Objection, your honor!" I shouted out loud. Wow, my first objection in a trial. I never knew it felt so great. To see that everyone stares at you waiting to say something intelligent. Thinking it twice, that isn't so good. Now I had to come up with something smart enough so I don't fool myself. I should've prepared something to say, but the word just came out. Anyway, I couldn't let Johnson keep talking. He was already giving me too much problems.

"Is there something you want to say, Mr. Straw?" asked me the judge.

"Um, yeah. There is, your honor." Ok, here it goes. It's not that difficult to see something strange with what Johnson said. "Well, I don't agree with what Mr. Johnson just said. About hitting the victim with a bottle just because he lost a game. It's just a game. Besides, I bet they weren't gambling"

"Yes, indeed," followed up Lawrence. Finally, some backup! "A game of poker between friends is just that: a game. A mere competition to define ability over the cards. The cards, only those with their back in blue flames can tell who the one victorious is. I believe that your honor would not be so naïve to even think that someone could die over a simple game of poker"

What was that? I had to think as hard as I could to raise a simple objection and he comes up with a poem? I think he hasn't been my chief long enough to know him well.

"It seems your honor is a little confused with what Mr. Eastwood just said," commented Johnson. At least someone understood what Lawrence said. "Especially Mr. Straw there, to be honest his puzzled face gives me confidence" Damn, he could see through me. "It seems Mr. Eastwood has a gift for poems, but if I'm not mistaken he just wanted to say that Mr. Colfred couldn't have committed murder. Oh, and about the "blue flames", he just meant that the deck of cards used to play have their back colored in blue"

Umm, yeah. I deduced the same thing. Everything was so confusing in that moment. What to do next? Well, first off I still think that Jackson should spill the beans. He wasn't even worried about what was going on that it looked as he wasn't the one who even played poker with the victim. But even he wanted to speak; he wanted to give a testimony. I'm his defense attorney, I shall grant him that.

"Your honor, the defense would like to hear what Mr. Colfred wants to say," said Lawrence. What the hell? I was about the say the same thing!

"Mr. Eastwood," said the judge. "I thought that Mr. Straw was going to do as the defendant's attorney in this case"

"Yes, indeed. It's just that I thought I could give him a little push to move on so we can clear the facts that are still unknown" Oh, cool. Now I was the one being taught. I had to show Lawrence that I can do something on my own as well.

"Anyways, I would also want to hear what Mr. Colfred has to say," said the judge. "Please, give us a brief testimony about this poker game and where it took place"

Jackson didn't even take a minute to think what to say. Well, it made sense since he was the one who wanted to talk in the first place.

"Well, there isn't much to say. I'm actually a pianist in the _Big shrimp_, yet I can hardly play at all. My real job is to take on interested customers over at the poker table. In fact, it's a pretty well known attraction. About the game, the rules are simple: we play a game of poker using two decks of cards. That's all it is… a game. And our customers are happy"

Long story short, it seems. There is something that's bugging me, though.

"I see," said the judge. "So you actually play poker with the customers instead of playing the piano as you should. Interesting. Ok then, please begin your cross-examination Mr. Straw"

My what? Oh, yeah. Cross-examination. Why didn't he say "begin to question the defendant"? That would've been easier to understand.

"Well, Mr. Straw," I began. Good start! "First of all, what was that about the two decks?"

"Oh, that?" said Jackson. "It's simple; we use two decks with different colors in their backs to prevent cheating"

Well, that made sense. Moving on, what else should I ask? Well, pressing on the poker topic should take me alongside the right track.

"So you say people pay you just to play poker?"

"Hehehe, yep. I knew you would ask me about that" said Jackson. "See, it's not that we "just play poker". I'm a professional. I don't say this with pride, but I've never lost once in my life"

"What? Never lost once?" I asked. That's hard to believe. I even loose playing solitaire on the computer with the easy mode on.

"Well, that isn't as strange as it may sound" jumped in Johnson. Hello, I'm questioning here! Wait in the queue for your turn, Johnson! "If, in fact Mr. Colfred never lost a game of poker even once, I see reason enough to kill the one who defeated him in his own game. I, as well, would really be angry if I was defeated by some strange man after so many years of not loosing. Although, of course, I'd never even think of making him pay the way Mr. Colfred did"

Could you keep your mouth shut for just five minutes, Johnson? I don't think if what he said was true, but the judge is really taking that as a possibility.

"Hold your horses, Mr. Johnson" said Jackson very calmly. "Mr. Straw here is still doing his cross-examination. You'll have some time to make your own questions as well"

"Thanks, Mr. Colfred," I said. Why wasn't he saying anything in his defense? I guess it's up to me to rule out the possibility of murder for losing a game. But it's still unclear if he lost the game at all, where's the proof in that? At least in that moment that wasn't the fact we were talking about. "Say, Mr. Colfred, where exactly were the two of you playing poker? That is, you and the victim Peter Black"

"Oh, that" said Jackson. "Yeah, it would sound strange if we were playing in the middle of the restaurant with all the customers around watching, though there aren't many these days. Actually, we where a floor below the restaurant. We were playing in the basement. It's pretty old and dusty, it has many years of history; it was a common place for black market now that I remember. That's why that room has its own tricks"

Its own tricks? What was he talking about? Just then the sound of the gavel hitting the desk filled the room. The judge spoke.

"I think we heard enough from the defendant. It is of my understanding right now that this game was just a competition. What matters the most right now is the moment of the crime"

"But, your honor, that would require a whole different testimony," laughed Jackson. "It is against the rules if I say something different than what I'm supposed to say. Besides, what point is there to speak about that topic if I didn't even touch the murder weapon?"

"Objection!" yelled Johnson. That was a quick one, though it was pretty obvious he would jump into that. "The bottle we found at the crime scene was covered with the defendant's fingerprints upside-down! We made it clear before that what would make perfect sense is that Mr. Colfred used the bottle to kill the victim"

I looked at Jackson, waiting for him to say something. Nothing. Not a single word came out. He just… smiled? He knew something and he wasn't being cooperative.

"There's something that wouldn't quite fit in the situation," said Lawrence. Yes, I love when he interrupts me! "Your honor, what would you do if you, let's say, accidentally, killed someone?"

That came as a shot right in front of his head for the judge. He even was looking at Jackson like waiting for him to say something. He finally understood, it seemed.

"Wait, what? If I killed someone? Well, that's a strange question. But I guess I would arrange everything so I wasn't seemed as the culprit, I would swipe my fingerprints out of the killing weapon, and then I'd flee the scene of the crime"

"Exactly as I thought," said Lawrence smiling. "In fact, that is what everyone who has just killed someone would do. But, it just so happens that the person who made the phone call to announce the crime scene was the defendant right here, Mr. Jackson Colfred. As in the basement there isn't much signal, he went upstairs, to the first floor, and so acted as a good citizen to report the crime"

Way to go, Lawrence! I knew he would save my butt. How do you like that, Johnson? I just had to see the expression on his face, and so I did. But he wasn't that worried, I think he already knew about that.

"Well, yes," he said. "Maybe Mr. Colfred made the phone call. Even we have his cell phone as evidence. But right now I doubt that would make any difference with what comes next"

"What comes next?" asked the judge eyes opened.

"Let me guess," said Lawrence. "I can only deduce with the cocky smile of the prosecutor that he knows of a certain witness. Am I right?"

"That's exactly it," replied Johnson. Oh, man! This guy has way too many aces under his sleeve. "The prosecution would like to call the witness who saw the whole crime, Ms. Cassie Packard"

Oh, damn. An eyewitness. This is going to get ugly.


	3. The dealer

3

The Dealer

Cassie entered the courtroom. She was much younger and prettier that I expected. She was about twenty five, brown hair and sparkling big green eyes, almost like big emeralds. She was wearing small clothes: a simple T-shirt and some tight jeans. Strangely, she was also wearing a blue scarf around her neck. Everyone was staring at her. I couldn't help to notice that she was very nervous. As I recall, people who is nervous in trials usually slip their mouths easily.

The young girl took the stand. Now she was even more nervous. I was going to have to pay attention to every word she said.

"Ms. Packard," finally said the judge. "Please give us your full name and occupation"

"Yes. My name is Cassie Packard, and I'm a waitress at the _Big shrimp _restaurant" She said that calmed enough. I just couldn't wait for the moment to talk about the witnessing!

"Ms. Packard," said Johnson clearing his throat, then fixing his tie properly. Was he trying to make a good impression in front of her? I should've probably fixed my tie as well; Cassie was looking at Johnson with interest. "We know for certain that you witnessed the moment when Mr. Black was killed. Am I right?"

"Yes, that is right" she answered quickly and without hesitation.

"But if that was the case," continued Johnson. "What was the reason for you to be in the basement where Mr. Colfred and Mr. Black were playing a game of poker? Weren't you supposed to take people's orders?"

Yep, that must've taken some time to think so she could answer right. But she answered like she was a bullet that Johnson shot by asking her that question. Well, leaving the metaphors aside, what I meant was that she answered really fast.

"Oh, I forgot about that. First off, the restaurant usually closes its doors at 12:00PM, and by the time I went down to the basement I believe it was around 1:30AM. If I'm not mistaken, the victim and the defendant had something to eat from the time the restaurant closed until the time I went to the basement. I went down when the two of them finished, I was supposed to deal the cards for the game. I even took a picture of the both of them talking"

She took out a photograph from her pocket and handled it to Johnson, who examined it and then passed it to me. Nothing strange about the picture, at least there wasn't any dead body that time. It was all colored, in comparison with the previous picture. The image showed Jackson and Peter (who I finally got to see him better, even when he still had his strange hat on his head) sitting and looking to each other. I also got to see how small that basement was and how much did Jackson like grape juice; five bottles were lying very close to him.

"That was all correct," said Jackson. "Though I really had no idea that she took that picture. I always knew she was a good photographer"

There wasn't anything wrong with what Cassie just said. Technically, she didn't testify about anything requested by the judge, so maybe I could ask for more information.

"Then tell me, Ms. Packard, what were you doing from the time the restaurant closed to the time when you went to the basement?"

"Don't even remind me," she bluffed. She was all calmed down now. "I spent all that time cleaning the tables, tidying everything up, putting away the cups… you know, all that stuff that a waitress does when a restaurant close."

"Excuse me for interrupting, Mr. Straw," said the judge. I almost forgot he was still there. "But I think it would be of more importance to hear what she actually witnessed about the death of Mr. Black."

"Oh, yeah… I was just getting there, your honor," I said, quite ashamed. But really, I was about to ask her that.

"Then please Ms. Packard," continued the judge. "Give us your testimony about what happened when the suspect and the victim played poker."

"Yes," said Cassie, grabbing a side of her neck with her left hand. Well, actually she was just touching her scarf. "As I said before, I was supposed to deal the cards. The game went on for half an hour and both players where very quiet. Mister… Mr. Black was always touching his necklace, it was a lucky charm. When the game was about to end something terrible happened; Mr. Colfred jumped fiercely to… Mr. Black's neck and strangled him to death."

That was a strong testimony. She must have been in shock for witnessing all that. She even paused when she was about to name the victim. I could even notice a small tear going down from her eye.

"So, Mr. Straw," said Johnson, snapping me out of my thinking. "Are you going to shout your objection or should I do it?"

What the…? Give me a minute, Johnson! Ok, so he found something out, big deal. That guy has been a prosecutor for years; he had much more experience than me.

"What are you talking about? I still have to do my cross-examination."

Lawrence seemed to know what Johnson was talking about. He smiled at me.

"It's ok, Johnson," he said. Ok, I would leave that to him. "At the beginning of this trial we talked about the cause of death of the victim, and it was an internal bleeding in the head. So if we take that into account and try to match it with what Ms. Packard just said about strangling to death…"

He stopped there. Damn, how could I've missed that? That was enough for everyone to understand, even for the judge who then spoke quite amused.

"That's right! The victim was killed with a bottle, not with hands."

Not the best way to say a deduction, but at least he understood it well.

"But, wait," said Cassie, nervous once again. "I saw him. I really saw him going for his neck. I admit my memories are a little blurry for the shock, but I'm positive I saw him going for his neck."

"That is hard to believe, Ms. Packard," then said Johnson. "I can prove it to you that Mr. Black really was killed when he was struck with the bottle."

After that was said, Johnson opened again his suitcase and took out 3 more photographs. He handed one to Cassie, who immediately started to cry, then one to the judge and then one to me. There wasn't anything new in that picture; it showed the victim in the same position that it was in the first picture I saw him dead: eyes very closed, head pointing to the floor and… there was something new, though. In this picture he wasn't wearing his hat, he was bald. But the most eye-catching thing was the line of blood going from his forehead to his head. It made perfect sense: if the victim was really hit with the bottle and died with his head staring upside, then the blood wouldn't go from top to bottom as normally but from the forehead to all over his bald head and then the floor. There was something else that was bothering me, but I couldn't quite make it clear what it was. There wasn't anything else on the victim. Nothing else than the thin line of blood and the expression in his face. Maybe something about his jacket with that creamy color? No, there wasn't anything else than that. Wait a second… There wasn't anything else! That's it!

Johnson must've seen my surprised face when I was looking at the photograph. I'm so happy for his curiosity.

"I'm sorry to show you that, Mr. Straw. Maybe you're not good around blood."

"It's not the blood what I'm looking at," I counter-attacked quickly. "It's his neck that bothers me."

"His neck?"

"Recall what Ms. Packard said a moment ago." Yes! I had this one. "She said that the victim was always playing touching his necklace, probably a good luck charm."

Right then Johnson freaked out. I smiled. He must have pieced everything together. Lawrence laughed a little.

"That's right. If the victim was playing with a necklace on, then why is this picture not showing it? Simple enough. Let's keep recalling Ms. Packard's testimony, shall we? She said that the victim was playing with a necklace on him, and then she said that Mr. Colfred tried to strangle him."

"Mr. Straw," said the judge. Was he following me? "Are you saying that the defendant didn't actually try to strangle the victim, but the remove his necklace?"

Oh, thank god he understood.

"Yes, your honor. That's just what I was aiming to. In fact…" Then I remembered; the necklace Jackson was wearing. I saw it the very first moment I met him in the lounge. "Mr. Colfred, that necklace you're wearing right now... Where did you get it?"

"Oh, this?" he asked. "It has a picture of my daughter inside. See, I let Peter have this. He thought that I couldn't be defeated in poker with this on, so he asked me if he could borrow it. Quite the superstitious man."

"Mr. Colfred!" shouted the judge. "Why in the world, then, didn't you say anything in your defense when Ms. Packard accused you of strangling the victim?"

"Take it easy, your honor" laughed Jackson. "I just wanted to see if Dominic could discover that. If he couldn't, then I would say the truth. I swear."

Wonderful, he was testing me. At least he didn't say that before, that would've blacked my mind for the pressure.

"I'm so sorry," said Cassie. Now back to normal. "I just assumed that he was trying to kill him, Jackson was losing after all in the game."

"Ok, now that we cleared up the problem of the necklace," said the judge. "I would like to continue with what Ms. Packard just said; that the defendant was losing. How can you be so sure of that?"

"She must've seen what I saw, your honor," jumped in Johnson. He once again opened his suitcase to take out more photographs. What the heck? I bet that if someone popped open his suitcase, thousands of photographs would fly away.

He handed in a photograph to me and the judge. The picture showed the table and the cards. The lowest side had three 7's (hearts, diamonds and clubs) and two aces (spades and diamonds); that side of the table also had some chips: four small red chips and one bigger in black. On the other side of the table where also five cards: three K's (diamonds, hearts and clubs) and two aces as well (clubs and hearts). More chips: two small ones, and nine big ones. In the middle of the table I could see the blue deck, and the bottle not so far from it. So this picture was also taken in the investigation.

"For the ones that doesn't know about poker," said Johnson, always trying to sound smart. "Both hands were full house; this means three of a kind and two of another kind. Getting that specific combination is very hard to get, yet both players had it. The only way to win a full house with another full house is to have the three of a kind more valuable than the other one, like in this case; the victim had a winner hand. Also, as there aren't any chips in the middle of the table (that's when people wager their chips) I can only deduce that they were playing All-in. When someone plays All-in it wagers all his remaining chips. It's pretty obvious that the defendant was losing (looking at the amount and size of the chips) and played All-in; yet when the time to show their hands came, he lost."

Well, thanks for the lessons, Johnson, but I already knew how to play poker.

"That poker game," said the judge. "It's so… rude. I don't like it at all. What can you say about this, Ms. Packard?"

"It's like the prosecutor just said; both the victim and Jackson started with 3,500 points in chips. The lowest side is Jackson's hand. There are two kinds of chips: the small ones and the large ones. As you can see in the photograph, Jackson was losing by a big difference…"

Then it hit me. Something wasn't fitting.

"Hold it, Ms. Packard!" I yelled happily. I shouldn't be smiling, yet I was. I was supposed to look serious and concerned. "You say that each one started with 3,500 points in chips, right?"

"Um… yes…" she said nervously.

"Well then there is something I would like you to make clear; how many points are worth each kind of chip?"

"Uh, um…well…" she blabbered. She looked away, trying to remember. "1,000 the large ones, and 100 the small ones"

"That's what I thought you'd say. If what you are saying about the values of each kind of chip is true, then you lied about how many points each one started with; and the other way around."

"Make yourself clear, Mr. Straw" ordered the judge, impatiently.

"Look at the picture and you'll see, your honor." Johnson understood what I was talking about, I could tell by the look on his face. Another point for me! "If we add up the values of each kind of chip to the chips in the picture, then Mr. Colfred had 1,400 points, and the victim had 9,200 points. But if each player started with 3,500 points each, then the total would be 7,000 points, not 10,600 points as the total is in this case."

"Impressive!" said the judge. "You're completely right! So Ms. Packard lied again?"

The judge's eyes were on me! He bit, now it was time to reel in.

"No, your honor. She didn't lie when she said that each player started with 3,500 points in chips. She just lied about the chips' values. If we swap their values (1,000 the small ones, and 100 the big ones) then Mr. Colfred had 4,100 points and the victim 2,900; and if you add up those points to the total, then I'd be 7,000… the correct one."

Voila! There you go. Fished in. Cassie was really nervous right then and so was Johnson. The judge was stunned.

"Objection, your honor!" shouted Johnson. What is it that he wanted? He was going to take more pictures out of his damn suitcase? "All this just shows us that Mr. Straw is good in mathematics, that's all. There's nothing relevant in what he said concerning this case."

Ok, I didn't see that coming. I was way too overexcited to realize if it was relevant to this case or not. Come to think of it, it was relevant. In fact, it was really important for the whole case!

"He he he," I laughed. Wait, I laughed? That's the cockiest thing that I've ever done. I never laughed in the whole trial. Too much time with Lawrence, I guess. "Actually, your honor, knowing that my client wasn't losing before the victim died clears a very important fact. Up until this moment, everyone was accusing Mr. Colfred for committing the murder under the circumstances that he did it because he lost a poker game. But if, as we've just discovered, Mr. Colfred didn't lose, then the reason for killing disappears."

"So we're back to the beginning?" asked the judge disappointed.

"More or less," I said. "Still, I don't understand why Ms. Packard had to hide the truth about that."

The judge stared at her. Cassie was eating her nails with ferocity. She was completely nervous. I also stared at her. She couldn't take it anymore, she then talked furious.

"I didn't want to say what I'm about to say right now, but I guess I have no choice. There was something I was hiding, all right. There was something else in that game: a cheating."

"A what?" asked the judge. "You mean, a scum?"

"Call it whatever you want to. Jackson cheated in the game. Both hands where full houses, he had two aces and three 7's; and the… the victim had three aces and two Kings. The cheating was obvious, Jackson used another ace."

Wait; did she say three aces and two Kings? I checked the photograph of the table and the cards. There, I spotted her mistake.

"Ms. Packard I believe that's impossible. It only makes sense, as you've never actually seen the photograph that Mr. Johnson handed over to me and the judge. There's a little mistake about the victim's cards: he didn't have three aces and two Kings, he had the other way around, three Kings and two aces. Here, check the picture yourself!"

I slapped the photograph to the stand she was sitting on. She stared it amused.

"No way!" she said horrified. "But… he cheated, I know it… I slipped the card inside his pock…"

She stopped.

"What was that? You slipped a card inside what?" I questioned her. Then I asked Johnson. "Do you, by chance, happen to have the cards that are shown in the picture?"

"Why, now that you ask it," he said, looking into his suitcase. Man, that thing was like Mary Popping's bag. Only this one was filled with evidence. Johnson took out two plastic bags with five cards inside each. "Yes, I was allowed to pick up the cards that each player used. Why? Is it of any importance right now?"

"It's just that this cards topic is killing me. Just hand me over the victim's hand, please."

"What are you trying to pull off, Dominic?" yelled Lawrence disturbed. Why the sudden talking?

Johnson gave me the plastic bag with a layer on it that said "Black's Cards". I opened it and took out the cards. Three K's and two aces, just like in the picture. My brain was working at a high speed. I needed to think something to connect everything. This case wasn't going further in anymore. I walked quickly back to my stand, I wanted to ask Lawrence if he could deduce something about those cards. Stupidly, on my way back to my stand, I stepped on my shoe-laces and fell right to the floor. I hit my head and dropped all the cards. Right then I heard some low laughs from everywhere, especially Johnson. I stood up as fast as I could and grabbed all the cards, but there was something that called my attention: I saw three of the cards' backs; two of them were read, and one was blue. I flipped the other two cards; red backs. Then the blue card was the one that didn't fit, I looked which one it was; a K. Enough of thinking, I had to tell that to the judge!

"Look, your honor! One of the cards has its back painted in blue, whereas the other four are red!"

"Yes, that is correct…" said the judge. "But then again, what does that mean?"

Right then another voice interrupted us. It was Jackson.

"My, my. Very well done, Dom," he said. Did he just call me Dom? "It seems this trial is going to take a new direction. It appears to be that one card was swapped. But why? And who did this?"

"Don't look at me," said Johnson. "I just took the cards from the table."

"Calm down, Johnny, it wasn't you."

"And neither was you, Mr. Colfred," I said. "There's no reason for you to have done that. Besides, you wouldn't be so stupid to swap a card of a different color knowing the color of the deck."

"Exactly," said Jackson, smiling. I guessed I was saying all what he wanted me to say. "When playing poker, I use the method of using two different decks with different colors (red and blue) to prevent cheating. I always tell this to who I'm playing with, though. Even Cassie knew."

"But if the three people who were in that room knew about the two decks…" said the judge, as confused as always. "Then who swapped the card?"

"Easy," said Jackson. "It was someone who didn't watch the game."


	4. The fourth person

4

The fourth person

We were waiting in the main lobby. The judge had given a 20-minutes recess, time enough to clear my mind. I was there, Jackson was there, but not Lawrence; he was speaking with the judge about something; strange, he didn't tell me anything about it.

Jackson was relaxing in the bench while humming a song. Then it was for sure, he wasn't even a tiny little bit worried about his position; way too much confidence, I guess.

"Hey, Dom!" he called me. "Come here, there's something I want to tell you."

I approached him. He sat properly and stuck his eyes in mines. He talked with a smile on his face.

"You're doing a great job, Dom. Just remember always to stick with what you really think is the truth; even if it comes down to something ugly."

"Jackson, I know you're not telling me something," I said with anger. "And I want you to reveal it to me now; otherwise this case is going to end with a guilty verdict. Is that what you want?"

Jackson laughed, which made me want to hit him in the nose.

"Dom, take it easy. There's no need to reveal anything. You'll see how every piece of the jigsaw will fit together. Besides, up until now you've proven yourself to be trustworthy and clever enough to understand every fact."

"Yeah but thanks to your help. I would never come up with that about a fourth person. And if it is true as you say it is, then please tell me. I really have no clue."

Jackson doubted what I said for a few seconds.

"I can't say anything just yet," he said. "All I think about this case are pure suppositions. Besides, giving you the answer would spoil the fun."

"You really trust me, don't you?" I asked, but no answer. "Ok, I won't ask again about the fourth person of yours. How about your necklace? Why did you steal it from the victim?"

"Oh, this piece of sorcery?" he asked, fiddling with it. "It has the picture of my daughter inside."

"Uhum… So it's yours? But, I don't understand; your waitress said she saw you stealing it from the victim. Even when you said that the victim borrowed it from you; fact that, by the way, I find quite difficult to believe."

"That Cassie… I knew she had something in her hands. She came to work as a waitress almost a month ago. You sensed what she felt, didn't you?"

As always: aiming the conversation to another direction; every time even more meaningless.

"What are you talking about? Sense what?"

"Every time she is about to mention the name of the victim, she pauses. Also, she has a special nervous tick."

"Now that you mention it, she did pause all the time; like she was shocked for witnessing the crime."

"No, Dom. If someone is shocked for witnessing a murder, they just don't speak at all. She only pauses when she is about the mention Black's name. Doesn't that particular fact seem strange?"

Finally, something he truly doesn't know. But if he didn't know, neither would I.

"So you say Cassie is shocked for something about the victim? Any ideas? Or are you only going to laugh and pretend not to know anything?"

"Oh, no," he said. "I wasn't going to say this up until the moment it would be of most importance but… Mr. Black hit Cassie when he thought I've cheated."

Whaaatt! Was he serious? I didn't know what to believe, even though anything that was happening in that trial was so confusing. Right then when I was standing with my mouth opened for the surprise, a man called us from the courtroom to say that the trial was about to continue. Perfect, just when the doubts came back like an explosion.

"Mind to give me a hint?" I asked, almost begging.

"Oh, come on. No need to worry, Cassie will talk if you know what to ask."

Just when Jackson was turning around to walk to the courtroom, someone ran past and bumped against me, but then kept on running. I had the chance to catch a glimpse of that little person. It was a girl, I could tell so much, most likely a young teenager. But, although I only saw her back, I remember it: it was that young girl that saw me before entering the courtroom for the first time. I wanted to stop her but she had already left, so I headed to the courtroom.

"Now, if Ms. Packard is ready…"

"Yes, your honor." She was sitting in the left stand, as always.

"Ok," continued the judge. "You said you had something to confess, right?"

What? Something to confess? What was it this time?

"I was so scared to say this the first time," she began to say, shivering. "But the reason of why I know about the cheating is that I cooperated with the vic… Mr. Black…" Again, tears and sobs. "… I slipped a card inside Mr. Colfred's pockets so that after the cheating was showed it would seem as he changed a card from his hand to one that he possessed. But when… when Mr. Black searched for the card doing as he was mad for the supposed cheating, he found nothing inside his pockets."

She finished talking, she was almost crying. Again, she was so nervous that she was touching her scarf with a look of pain in her face. I couldn't help to notice that, and the fact that she paused to say the victim's name... Hold on a sec. I started to recall what Jackson told me five minutes ago.

«"Every time she is about to mention the name of the victim, she pauses. Also, she has a special nervous tick."»

So that means Jackson knew that before? Well, good thing I've noticed that "tick" of hers, but what does it mean? Wait, Jackson also mentioned that Black hit her; and the only reason for doing that would be…

"Ms. Packard, I couldn't help to notice that you pause every time you're about to say the victim's name," I said, still without the whole answer. I heard Jackson saying "YOU couldn't help to notice?" But if he wanted to get the credit, he should've spoken for himself long before that moment.

"What… what are you saying?" mumbled Cassie. She tried to reach her hand to her scarf, but before she realized she was subconsciously doing that, she stopped.

"See, there's that other thing you've been doing recently," I went on. "Not only you pause whenever you're about to say the victim's name, you touch your scarf nervously."

The judge interrupted. "You point, Mr. Straw?"

"I still don't know for sure, but I'm guessing that removing the scarf out of her neck would tell us something really important."

"What are you blabbering about, Straw?" said Johnson. But I wasn't blabbering; Cassie was even more nervous than before, that meant I hit her weak point.

"Come to think of it," said the judge. "It is pretty warm inside here, so why would someone bring a scarf?"

I stood up, approached Cassie, and tried to get her scarf out as calm as possible not to freak her out. Unfortunately, she did freak out. She stood aside quickly.

"Don't touch me! You don't understand!" she yelled.

She was completely mad. If I tried to get any closer to her, she would've probably attack me. Still, then I kind of knew what could be beneath that scarf.

"Ok, Ms. Packard." I stood quietly to show no sign of aggression or anything of the sort. "Don't show me your scarf if you don't want to. Just tell me, what happened after Peter Black discovered there was no card inside the defendant's pockets?" I used the victim's full name to cause a bigger impact inside her. Once again, her eyes fade out. She looked like she was blind.

"I… I don't remember…"

"Of course you don't. How could you, if you fainted?"

"What?" Then she panicked. I knew it, there wasn't any other choice.

"I believe I've just pieced everything together from you." That was easier than I thought. I tried to say everything calmly, but the power of knowledge and reasoning was overflowing my ego and so I had to talk like a pro. "You said that you slipped a card inside Mr. Colfred's pockets before the game started. When the last hands were shown a cheat was visible in one of them, so the victim searched Mr. Colfred's pockets to see if there was any card he could've swapped in the middle of the game. There was no card, so that means that the defendant must've hidden it before the last hand. Anyone would know in that moment that Mr. Colfred realized that he was set up to be seen as he was the one who cheated, so that's why the victim must've hit you strong enough to knock you unconscious. To sum everything up, you worked for Peter Black to make him win, but the trap went wrong."

The room was mute. I could only focus on Cassie. She was crying waterfalls. I felt so bad for what I've done, I really did, but it was the only way to finally know what happened behind the scenes. At least there was one thing I knew for sure right then: Cassie Packard didn't do anything wrong or bad, she just followed instructions from some guy who was probably threatening her to do so. I wanted to know so hard who the hell was that guy, but I couldn't ask her that right then.

Cassie stopped crying a little, and started to unwrap her scarf. Once her beautiful neck was completely visible I saw it; a big purple bruise almost coming out from her smooth skin. I could feel the shame she was feeling. I almost started to cry myself. Once she was calmed enough, she spoke.

"Yes, it is all as you say." She seemed a lot better. "I was so afraid to tell this because I thought I'd be seen as the one who did it."

"It's the other way around, Cassie." That was the first time I called her Cassie instead of Ms. Packard. "Knowing all this makes you look clean from suspicions. If you were unconscious before the killing was done, then it means you couldn't have done it."

I was right and I knew it, but what she said wasn't making a hundred percent sense. She would've obviously be seen as someone innocent if she told us about being unconscious in the first place. I don't know why, but I kinda saw something strange in that.

"It's ok, Ms. Packard," said the judge. Johnson was open-mouthed; he didn't see that one coming at all. "You can leave this courtroom whenever you want, we do not need of your assistance anymore. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Thank you," she said. "But, if it is possible, I would like to have a seat in the bleachers and see until the end of the trial."

"As you wish," granted the judge with a happy face. "Now, regarding the situation, the one person we have to go on in this case is Mr. Colfred, am I right?"

"Are you sure, your honor?" said Jackson out of nowhere. "Have you already forgotten about the possible fourth person?"

"No, I haven't," replied the judge. "But it is as you say: possible. We have no clue about who could he or she be."

"Let's go back to when the crime took place, after the cheating." Again, changing the topic to his own benefit. "Peter checks inside my pockets to see if I cheated in the game. He can't find any card, but he was supposed to find one. He hit his partner, Cassie Packard, who was supposed to slip a card in my pockets, and knocks her out. As I see this, I go upstairs to report this to the police…"

"And you left the room with Mr. Black berserk," I added.

"Exactly; and while I was doing that phone call someone killed Peter. So, not only we can assume that the killer has already been in that room before, but that he or she knew of another entrance."

"And why's that?" asked the judge. He was so focused on what Jackson was saying that he looked like a kid when his mother reads a book to her son before going to sleep.

"That's because the stairs are the only visible way to go to the upper floor," went on Jackson. "Maybe you don't remember well, but I did say that the room where I play poker has its own tricks."

Did he actually say that? Then why didn't I ask about it before? Damn, that would've saved me a lot of time.

"Nonsense!" shouted Johnson. He's been quiet for a long time. "All this is pure nonsense with no evidence to support it. Are we supposed to believe the defendant of this imaginary passageway? Up until now Mr. Colfred haven't done anything more than changing the topic to mislead us to his own conclusions. He even did so when he said that Mr. Black didn't find any card inside his pockets; so where is this card anyways?"

Wow. Johnson really was pissed off; I could easily see his jugular vein about to explode.

"I'm sorry to tell you, Mr. Colfred," said the Judge. "But he's right; if you or your defense attorney doesn't have evidence it will be as nothing."

Damn you judge! Why did he say that? Now everyone was looking at me. I wish I had Johnson's suitcase to take evidence out of nowhere. I panicked.

"No need to worry, Dom," said Jackson while giggling. "I'd like to request to send someone to the _Big Shrimp_'s basement and check the wardrobe against the wall. It's some steps behind the victim's chair, easy to notice. Push the wardrobe to the left and you'll see the secret passageway. Also, if you could, please bring the bottles that are on the floor."

A passageway behind a wardrobe? What is this, Narnia?

"All right," agreed the judge. "I'll send one of my men to go check it out. Fortunately, the restaurant is not too far away from here."

"I can understand why the wardrobe," said Johnson. "But the bottles on the floor? Why would you like to have that? Are you planning to kill us all?"

Jackson's smile never went away; he was having so much fun.

"That was actually for you, Johnny. But I won't tell you until they've come back."

Johnson started to sweat. I wondered what was the deal with the bottles.

This was getting kind of exciting. I didn't know exactly what is it that we were going to discover, but it was still exciting. Though that time I wasn't going to let Jackson get away with what I really wanted to know.

"Ok, then." I said. I glanced to my right to see Lawrence fiddling with his hands. He was as concerned as I was, I supposed. "Going back to what you said about the fourth person… well… as you can see, nobody has any idea of who could it be. Though, it seems to me that you knew this person before he supposedly committed the crime. Am I right?"

Long pause. No answer. Jackson smiled and yelled something I'd never forget.

"Now, honey!"

The shout could've been heard to at least four blocks away. Jackson knew how to scream whenever he wanted to.

"Mr. Colfred!" said the judge furiously. "What was that for? I swear, if you ever shout again in my courtroom I'll…"

He couldn't finish his threat because a low music started to sound. It was a cell phone. How disrespectful were the people in this room!

Everyone started to touch their pockets to check if the cell phone was from one of them, but apparently it was ringing from Johnson's suitcase. Right then I wondered if that suitcase was some kind of high-tech thing that could save stuff like a Pandora's Box and could also ring.

Johnson freaked out and started to look inside his suitcase, and after a while he took out a small blue cell phone. He turned it off, and while he was checking from whom that call came from, he explained whose phone was it.

"I'm sorry; apparently Mr. Colfred received a call from an unknown contact. As I said at the beginning of this trial, I had the defendant's cell phone as evidence for being the one phone that made the call to the authorities…" He kept on checking the messages with concern. Jackson was smiling with his head looking down. "Oh, how queer, I had no idea you knew Mr. Eastwood before."

"Why's that?" asked Jackson. I could notice the level of sarcasm in his voice. I looked at Lawrence and… he was sweating! He was as nervous as I was at the beginning of the trial, and that is a lot to say. I wasn't brave enough to talk to him. I feared he might go mad or something. What was going on?

"Well, it seems here that you called Mr. Eastwood at 2:14 AM on April 16th… But wait…"

April 16th? Have I heard that date before?

"Rings any bell?" asked Jackson. He was now looking at Lawrence, who looked away uncomfortably.

"Why, that's the date of death of the victim! And it just so happens that the actual time of death was 2:00 AM! " snapped the judge amazed. Now where was the judge who couldn't even follow up with the trial? At first he was a no-brainer who only hit his gavel and then he remembers the exact date and time of the victim's death? The world was upside-down.

"Bingo!" said Jackson.

"But, I don't get it. Are you insinuating something Mr. Colfred? Please do speak if you have something to say."

"Excuse me, your honor," said Lawrence. I had almost forgotten how his sound sounded like. He was much calmer that before. "I believe I know what the defendant is insinuating but I would like to object on that before he starts with his pointless charades."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Eastwood, but I'm afraid I'll let the defendant explain us why he received that call at that date and time… or would you like to tell us?"

"In fact, I'd be happy to do so." He took a deep breath. "Yes, Jackson and I have been friends for a couple of years now. I just happened to call him at that time 'cause I knew he was meeting an important client that day and so I wanted to know how it went."

"Is that true, Mr. Colfred?"

"Well, yes and no. First off, I remember being the one who actually made that call…"

Bang! That was a direct shot to Lawrence. But yes, Jackson was right about that! Lawrence's speech was so detailed that everyone missed out what he said about making the phone call himself.

"… and the conversation wasn't about that exactly. Have you forgotten already, Lawrence?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jax," said Lawrence; he was a little more confident then, it seemed.

"Yeah, I thought you might deny it. Well, thank God I recorded the conversation. Mr. Johnson, could you please press the green button to hear the conversation? Oh, and don't forget to put in on speakerphone."

Bang! Another shot. I did actually feel it by looking at Lawrence's expression. Although he was surprised, he still was keeping his posture. I wanted to talk to him so much, but I just hadn't the strength to do that. Up until then Jackson always acted as if nothing was happening and then it turns up that those things he hides are always right or have something to do with the topic. I didn't know what to think anymore.

I heard a little *beep* and the conversation started.

* Hey, Lawrence, do you have a minute?*

* Yes Jax, what's up? Having trouble with that baldy client?*

Long pause.

* Actually, yes… he's dead, someone killed him.*

* What? What happened?*

* I dunno, I really don't. I just went upstairs for a couple o' minutes and when I came back he was dead. His head was bleeding.*

* Oh my God… Do you need help?*

* I see something bad coming up. If anything would happen to time, would you be there for me?*

Pause.

*…yes. You can count with me*

*END OF THE MESSAGE. TO REPEAT, PRESS THE NUMBER ONE. TO DELETE…*

*Beep!*

Johnson turned the cell phone off. We were all confused and waiting for either Jackson or Lawrence to talk. It was actually the judge who spoke.

"Well, it seems that Mr. Colfred called Mr. Eastwood instead of the other way around, yes… but, besides that nothing else seems off."

"You sure?" said Jackson. He looked at me like waiting for me to say something, but I was empty. The only things about the conversation that called my attention were the long pauses. At first, it happened after Lawrence asked if Jackson was having trouble with the "baldy" client; then it happened when… Wait, could it be? I had to ask Lawrence what I was thinking.

"Lawrence…" I was mumbling. "Have you ever met Peter Black before he was killed?"

He was astonished. He looked at me like if I was against him.

"What are you insinuating, Dominic? Of course I never knew the victim before he was murdered… why?"

Oh God. No way.

"I think I see what Dominic is thinking about," said Jackson. "If Lawrence never knew the guy…"

He halted. Come on, keep on talking! I would have talked myself, but I was petrified for the surprise.

"… then how did he know that the victim was bald?"


End file.
